


Waste No Time

by amyfortuna



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Engagement, Falling In Love, Feelings, First Meetings, Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes the combined efforts of three brothers to get Maglor betrothed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waste No Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



Maglor lay in the warm green grass not far from his home. The light of Laurelin was at its brightest, and in the wide meadow, his younger brothers and the children of his parents' apprentices, of varying ages, played happily with various balls and sticks. He was watching them idly, working out a rhythm for his latest composition using the counting game being played by several of them, and after a while closed his eyes to better hear their voices as they shouted out numbers and passed the ball to one another. 

He felt, rather than heard, a small form settle down next to him after a while, and opened his eyes, expecting to see Amrod or Amras. But rather than a little brother, it was a stranger's face looking down at him with a smile. The boy couldn't have been more than thirty, near Curufin's age, and his pleasant round face was quietly intrigued. 

"What are you doing?" the boy said before Maglor could ask him who he was. 

"I'm composing," Maglor said. 

"Looks relaxing," the boy answered, and Maglor smiled. 

"It is, and it isn't," Maglor said, and then continued: "Who might you be? I thought I knew all the children around here." 

"I'm Gildor, son of Inglor," the boy said. "My mother has come to apprentice under your father for a while." His face lit up. "She loves making beautiful things out of metal." 

"And what do you like, Gildor?" Maglor said, sitting up. 

The boy spread out his arms. "Everything!" he exclaimed. "But especially stone. I want to learn from your mother, when I get old enough." 

Maglor laughed. "I'm sure that can be arranged," he said, ruffling Gildor's hair. "But since you want to learn everything, would you also like to learn about music?" 

"Of course!" Gildor said, and gave Maglor a bright expectant smile. "Will you teach me?"

Maglor laughed. "Did you leave your friends behind to come and ask me that?" 

"No," Gildor said, and his witty little face was suddenly solemn and wise. "I came over here to find a new friend." 

\------

"Will you marry me?" Gildor said as they sat together on a bench in Telperion's light, forty-eight years later. His voice was casual, as though he were asking about the prospects for rain later, but there was a hitch in his breath at the end that betrayed his nervousness. 

Maglor turned and looked at him with no little astonishment. "Gildor - I didn't think you - aren't we friends?" His hand, as if it was moving all on its own, landed suddenly on top of Gildor's knee. The whole night seemed filled with electricity, crackling and sparking between them. Gildor wasn't looking at him, but rather down at Maglor's hand on his knee, hardly breathing. 

"Of course we are!" Gildor said, finally raising his eyes. "But I've loved you for years, and I hoped - !" 

Maglor took a deep breath. "Ask me again in a year." 

Gildor's eyes were shining with tears, but he blinked them away sturdily. "I will." He leaned forward, as if he was getting up, and Maglor snatched his hand away from Gildor's knee. But Gildor merely brushed his lips against Maglor's, quickly, chastely, but it sent sparks like lightning through Maglor's whole body. He settled back on the bench again, and picked up the thread of conversation. Marriage wasn't mentioned again, but from time to time Gildor would glance at Maglor, and there was something in his gaze that felt as though light was travelling down Maglor's spine, like the hum of inspiration but far deeper and fairer. 

\-----

He had not thought the knowledge that Gildor loved him would change anything - and on the surface, it seemed not to. Gildor never spoke of love, never tried to court him or woo him, but was the same pleasant friend as always. But inside Maglor a storm was raging - a storm composed entirely of sweetness and beauty, but a storm nonetheless. He had never been so full of inspiration for songwriting, but all his songs seemed to turn on the theme of love, and over time they developed in passionate intensity, starting out as lighthearted mockery and ending in desperate pleas and finally, fulfilment and happiness. 

"I am turning out a load of sop these days," he said to Maedhros, throwing himself dramatically down on the couch next to the desk where Maedhros was working. Maedhros looked up at him and smiled. 

"I think your work better than ever," Maedhros said mildly, then teasing, "but it does seem to run all along one particular theme - little brother, are you in love?" 

"No!" Maglor said, but his heart twisted painfully, and he immediately had to qualify his statement. "I didn't think I was." He looked up at Maedhros. "What does it mean when someone tells you they love you, and then you can't get them out of your head afterwards, and everything starts revolving around them, whether you want it to or not?" 

Maedhros smirked a little, and Maglor hastily added, "And don't tease, this is serious!" 

Maedhros laid his pen down, and thought for a moment. "Love is sometimes strange and contrary," he said at last. "There are poets who speak of it as something instant and eternal, something that begins at first sight and takes you over entirely. But at times love is simple, the outgrowth of a friendship so natural that it is as if a seed was planted and grows into a blossom. If you have found such a love, and if you feel it to be true, then waste no time to let it be what it must be."

"That's just it," Maglor said, frowning. "I'm not sure if this is love, or friendship, or just hormones, on my part or his. What sort of basis is that to begin a life that ties the two of us together for the rest of time?" He heaved a great sigh. "I have to be sure." Maglor caught Maedhros' smirk just as it started to cross his face. 

"His?" Maedhros said, and his smirk got bigger. 

"Oh, be quiet, you!" Maglor said, pantomiming a slap. "Don't tease." Maedhros showed no signs of sobering. "Much." 

" _I know who you li-ike_ ," Maedhros singsonged gleefully. 

Maglor stood up, and shook his finger at Maedhros. "Rest assured, when you fall in love, I absolutely promise I will follow you around with my harp constantly, composing rhymes on the spot in honour of you and your betrothed."

\-----

"Will you marry me?" 

Maglor blushed, hoping it wasn't as noticeable as when Caranthir did it. "Ask me again in a year." 

"Very well," Gildor said, and once more leaned in, pressing his lips to Maglor's. Maglor let out a small, half-surprised noise, but did not move away, his eyes falling shut. When Gildor moved back, he opened them, to find Gildor staring at him with a mixture of devotion and amusement. "Composed anything new lately?" he said casually, and the conversation moved on to music. 

Later, Maglor kept remembering that moment, that kiss, like it was on constant loop in his mind. 

\------

"Come hunting with me," Celegorm said, coming to the door of Maglor's music room. 

Maglor shook his head, absorbed in tuning a new harp. "I have a song I want to write, and a performance to prepare for in three days' time."

"What's your song about?" Celegorm said, entering the room and taking a seat on the nearest chair. Huan settled down on the floor next to him. 

"It's about feelings," Maglor said. "How to figure them out."

"So you've figured them out, have you?"

"No, that's just the problem," Maglor said. "I can't finish the song." 

"What's got you stuck?" Celegorm said. "Maybe I can help." 

Maglor laughed, stretching out his arms and setting the harp aside. "My brother, hunter and feelings expert." 

"I am acquainted with feelings, dear brother," Celegorm said. "I'm not sure you are though. You analyse them rather than feel them. Always in the back of your mind, you're thinking, _this will make a good song_ , or _how can I twist what I'm feeling into poetry?_ You never just feel things." 

"I -," Maglor began, and couldn't seem to finish his thought. _What do I feel? How do I name it?_

 _Why am I so afraid to_ just _feel_?

"Thank you," he said at last to Celegorm. "I think I will come hunting. The song will keep." 

\-----

"Will you marry me?" Gildor's voice was breathless with hope, and Maglor cast his eyes down, not wanting to say the words, but still not _sure_. 

"Ask me again in a year." 

Gildor let out a frustrated groan, but then sighed. "I'll wait as long as I have to," he said, and made as if to turn away, looking sad. 

Maglor let out a tiny sound of loss, and Gildor turned back again, the hope returning to his face. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Maglor's. 

Without conscious thought, Maglor's hand drifted up to the fall of Gildor's golden brown hair. Gildor was much taller than him, but leaning down like this, Maglor could reach his face easily, and gently brushed his knuckles against Gildor's cheek. 

The kiss lingered longer than their others, and when Maglor drew back, he felt as though his whole face was on fire from the blush he must have been sporting. Gildor was smiling broadly, and Maglor wanted to throw himself at him, to kiss him over and over. 

He retreated into the house, instead.

\------

"How are you, baby brother?" Maglor said, drifting into the room where Curufin was busy with designs. 

Curufin looked up, smiling. "Hardly a baby these days, big brother." But he stood up and let Maglor hug him nonetheless. "What are you after now?" 

Maglor looked affronted. "What, I can't just spend some time with my little brother without being asked what I want?"

Curufin gave him a look. "Are you interested in anything along the lines of rings, say?" 

"What kind of rings?" Maglor asked, suspicious. 

"How about silver ones?" 

"Why would I be wanting those?" Maglor said, with the feeling of having lost a battle he was unaware of fighting. 

"Oh, come on!" Curufin said. "The two of you are made for each other, and he's been more than patient. Wake up and smell the roses!" 

"But how can I be sure?" Maglor said. "What if I hurt him terribly? What if love isn't forever? It wasn't for our grandfather, after all, and our parents aren't doing too well these days either." 

Curufin smiled, and dipped into his pocket, bringing out two silver rings. "These are mine," he said. "I'm going to ask Alyawendë to marry me in a few days' time, when I see her next." 

"And are you sure?" Maglor said. 

"No," Curufin said, and put a hand on Maglor's shoulder. "I may well hurt her. Love might not be forever. The future isn't set in stone, and there are no guarantees, not even in Aman. We know that more than most. But isn't it worth it - to take the chance, to build a life with someone you care for, someone you at least want to try to make happy?" 

Maglor nodded, feeling close to tears. "Will you make me rings?" he said softly. 

Curufin reached into another pocket and pulled out one silver ring. "You only need one," he said. "He has the other already. He's carried it for years - his mother made it for him before he asked you the first time." Curufin laughed a little. "She spoke to me about it when she was forging it, and I made this one for you at the same time." 

The tears that had been close before now spilled over, and Maglor took the ring carefully, embracing Curufin with all his might. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much." 

"Don't waste any more time," Curufin said. 

\-----

Maglor gathered up his harp, placing the silver ring in an inner pocket over his heart. He had written to Gildor, asking to meet him today, outside of their usual meetings. There was a spot in the meadow, not far away, that would be of special significance to them, and he had requested that they meet there. 

He smiled, his heart racing faster, as he approached to find Gildor lying there in the light, his large frame stretched out comfortably. 

"I have a new song," Maglor said, settling down next to him, "and I wanted you to hear it first."

Gildor gave him a bright smile, full of fondness and devotion, and Maglor found he could hardly breathe, seeing it. But nevertheless he settled the harp at his knees and began. 

_Love came slow,_  
_Warmed my heart like light._  
_Love, a seed to grow,_  
_Blossoms, shining bright._

Gildor caught his breath, but Maglor went on.

_Love lives here_  
_Where you and I abide_  
_Even through the fear,_  
_I'll no longer hide._

_Love, through all time,_  
_I swear I will be true._  
_I give you just one line:_  
_Yes! I'll marry you!_

Gildor let out a shocked gasp, and sat up, staring wildly at Maglor. "This - you - we - are you saying?" he managed to choke out. 

"Yes! _Yes!_ " Maglor said, and suddenly he had thrown the harp to one side and himself into Gildor's lap, and was kissing him for all he was worth, pouring three years of pent-up feelings into it. Gildor was laughing into the kiss, breaking away to smile helplessly, and then kissing Maglor again, warm and sweet.

It could have been hours that they sat there, absorbed in kisses and exclamations and random plans, but at last Maglor remembered, and drew out the silver ring, placing it on Gildor's hand. It fit perfectly. 

Gildor drew out the ring his mother had made, years ago, which had been carried next to his heart ever since, and placed it on Maglor's hand. They joined hands, and kissed once more, solemn and sure. 


End file.
